Hazel's Heart

by Terri Reid

  They drove in silence for a half mile, and finally Donovan sighed.

  “These people, the coven, they aren’t normal. They’ve allowed themselves to be influenced by the evil of the Master,” he said, his voice low, his face staring out the windshield. “Things they wouldn’t have done six months ago, they now do without a thought, without guilt, without remorse. All they want is power and influence. All they want is what the Master is whispering to them, coaxing them to commit atrocities they would have rejected in the past.”

  He turned to Joseph. “They kill without questioning,” he said vehemently. “They have bargained with their souls, and the Master has totally corrupted them. You have to understand. The Willoughbys are in more danger than they can imagine.”

  “And by being on the inside you can protect them?” Joseph asked.

  Donovan met Joseph’s eyes and nodded slowly. “Yes,” he finally said. “Yes, I can.”

  “And what happens when you need them to trust you,” Joseph asked, “in order for their lives to be saved, and they don’t listen because you’ve been playing this game with them?”

  Donavan turned away and looked out the side window. “That’s a risk I’m willing to take,” he said.

  “Did you know that Cat almost didn’t hide when she heard your voice in her head?” Joseph asked. “She almost did the opposite because she didn’t know if she could trust you.”

  Donovan turned back and stared at Joseph. “I didn’t…” he began.

  “But that’s a risk you’re willing to take,” Joseph said, throwing Donovan’s words back at him. He pulled up in front of City Hall, next to Donovan’s car. “You better figure out if your game is worth it.”

  Donovan stepped out of the car and bent down, looking back in at Joseph. “I’ll let you know,” he said.

  “Yeah,” Joseph replied. “Do that.”

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Joseph reached over to his nightstand, picked up his cell phone, looked at it and groaned. It was only 6:00 A.M. and he’d already received a text from the mayor requesting his presence in his office at 7 A.M. sharp.

  He put his phone down and laid back on his pillow, looking up to his ceiling. He was really tempted to ignore the message. He wasn’t required to be into the office until 8:00. Then he thought about the curtain flick the night before, and suddenly he was curious to see how the mayor was going to treat him after he picked up Donovan the night before.

  He threw off the blankets and rolled out of bed. “I’m going to get up,” he muttered. “But I’m not going to be happy about it.”

  Thirty minutes later, dressed in his uniform and with a protein shake in hand, he walked out of his apartment building and over to his cruiser. He put his hand on the door, then stopped and closed his eyes. He could hear the message from his grandfather in his mind as clearly as if he were standing next to him. “Gabriella is not well. You should come by this morning and see her.”

  He sighed softly, opened the vehicle and slid behind the wheel. He put his drink in the carrier and his briefcase on the passenger’s seat. Then he closed his eyes and concentrated on his grandfather’s face. “I have a meeting this morning at 7:00. I will arrive as soon as I can.”

  Once he knew his grandfather had received his message, he turned on the car and drove to City Hall. After parking the car in front of the building, he picked up his protein drink and headed up the stairs to the second floor. He strode easily to the oak door and rapped on it twice.

  “Enter,” came the voice from inside.

  Joseph pushed the door open and walked over to the desk and took a seat across from the mayor.

  “I don’t believe I invited you to sit down,” the mayor said, his eyebrows raised in anger.

  Joseph remained seated. “You invited me to a meeting,” Joseph replied easily. “But if that was a mistake, I’m happy to leave and get some other things done.”

  The mayor glared at him for a moment and then shook his head. “No, stay,” he said. “I understand you arrested Donovan Farrington last night.”

  “You understand because you watched the whole thing from your window,” Joseph said, picking up his drink and taking a sip.

  “Why, yes. Yes, I did,” the mayor replied, taken aback.

  Joseph shrugged. “I get paid for paying attention to details like that,” he said.

  “Why did you arrest him?”

  “Well, at first all I wanted to do was talk to him,” Joseph said. “Seems that Farrington was the one who called in the false 9-1-1 report.”

  “False?” the mayor exclaimed. “What do you mean false?”

  “When the fire department got there, nothing was wrong,” Joseph replied, enjoying seeing the shock on the mayor’s face. “No fire. No damage. Nothing.”

  “Then, when I asked him about it,” Joseph continued, “he got a little belligerent. And, you know, I understand when folks have a bad day, but all I was trying to do was ask him a couple of routine questions. Then, when I walked behind his car, I noticed that his tags were expired. I pointed that out to him, and he took a swing at me.”

  He looked up and shook his head. “You just can’t let assaulting a police officer go by,” he said. “Once people start thinking they don’t need to respect the law, why, then you’ve got complete chaos. So, I arrested him.”

  “Donovan took a swing at you?” the mayor asked.

  “Surprised me too,” Joseph said. “But you never know with some people.”

  “And what did you discover when you interviewed Donovan?” the mayor asked.

  Joseph shrugged. “He admitted calling 9-1-1,” he said. “Told me he got some bad information, but he’d rather err on the side of caution. I believed him.”

  “Then what did you do?” the mayor asked.

  “Wrote him a ticket for the registration violation and drove him back here for his car,” Joseph replied. “Why do you ask?”

  “I was at my office for quite a while,” the mayor said, eyeing Joseph suspiciously. “And when I left, Donovan’s car was still here.”

  Joseph took another sip of his drink. “Well, I tell you, Mr. Mayor,” he said. “I find when I let someone cool his heels for a little while, he’s a might more cooperative when I ask him questions.”

  “So you kept Donovan at the station?” he asked.

  Joseph smiled inwardly. Ah, so you have a stool pigeon at the station watching my every move, do you? he thought. And you think you’re going to catch me in a lie.

  No, sir, I didn’t,” Joseph replied. “I kept him with me in my cruiser while I finished some investigations I had to do. I figured he was still in custody, and then I could kill two birds with one stone.”

  The mayor nodded slowly. “I see,” he said.

  Joseph stood up. “Anything else you need?” he asked.

  The mayor shook his head. “No. No, that will be all.”

  “Have a nice day, sir,” Joseph said and strode out of the room.

  Once the door closed, a tall, thin, African-American man came out of a side door into the mayor’s office.

  “Did you hear the conversation, Kendall?” the mayor asked.

  The man nodded. “He kept Donovan with him all evening,” he said. “He didn’t lie to you.”

  The mayor stared at the door Joseph had just exited. “He might not have lied,” he said. “But I still don’t trust him.” He turned to the man. “I need you to follow him. Find out his secrets. Find out anything we can use to humble that son-of-a-bitch police chief.”

  Kendall nodded and walked over to the window at the front of the mayor’s office. He pushed aside the curtain, pulled open the lower sash and then transformed into a crow and sailed out the window.

  “Let’s see just how invincible you are, Joseph Norwalk,” the mayor muttered. “Everyone has their secrets.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Once Joseph got into his cruiser, he picked up his radio and called into the station. “I’m heading out to the Willoughby Farm t
o follow up on the 9-1-1 call from yesterday,” he said. “If I’m not in radio contact, I’ll have my cell with me.”

  He drove out of town, passing the cut-off to County Road P that would have taken him to the Willoughby’s place and continued until County Road A, closer to Wulffolk Village. He drove as fast as he could without drawing attention to himself, and soon he was on the highway with the hidden access road. He slowed his car and moved onto the shoulder to look for any other vehicles. There was nothing around him except a few crows flying overhead. “Perfect,” he sighed, slipping the cruiser off the road and back behind the copse of trees.

  He parked the cruiser and slipped out, locking the car behind him. Then he jogged quickly down the dirt road to the hidden entrance to the city. He pushed the brush to the side and stepped into the ancient village. Running down the street, he made his way directly to the church.

  “Joseph,” his grandfather called, coming down the stone steps to meet him.

  Joseph’s stomach sank. “Is it too late?” he asked. “I came as quickly as I could.”

  His grandfather shook his head. “No. No, it is not too late,” he said. “She is still with us, only weak.”

  They hurried inside the church, and Joseph ran up the stairs. He hurried down the hall to the little room and entered quickly. His breath caught as he looked down at the little girl whose skin was as pale as the pillow that nearly enveloped her head. Hurrying to her side, he knelt next to her bed and took hold of her tiny hand in his.

  She turned her head and smiled wearily. “You came,” she whispered.

  “Of course I came,” he said, holding back tears. “You are my favorite girl.”

  She coughed softly. “Am I going to die?” she asked him.

  He gently stroked her bangs away from her forehead. “Everyone must die, schatzi,” he said softly. “You know that.”

  “No, Joseph, that’s not what I mean,” she protested weakly. “Am I going to die today?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t want you to die today,” he said. “I want you to get better.”

  She coughed again. “I want to get better too,” she said. “But Sister Helga said there is no hope for me.”

  Joseph felt anger surge through him. What kind of words were those to speak to a sick child? She was not going to die. She was going to be healed.

  The idea blossomed as soon as the thought went through his mind.

  “Schatzi,” he said, using her nickname. “I have friends. Friends who are magical. Friends who can help you get better.”

  “Do you?” she asked, her eyes wide with hope.

  “Yes, I do,” he said. “They are not far away, and I need to go get them. But I need you to hold on until I come back. Can you do that?”

  She nodded slowly. “Will you be very long?” she asked.

  He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “No, not very long at all,” he said. “I promise.”

  “Hurry, Joseph,” Gabriella pleaded. “I want there to be hope for me.”

  “There is hope,” he promised. “There is more than hope. There is magic.”

  He kissed her once more and then hurried from the bedroom. He met his grandfather in the hallway. “I’m going to get the Willoughbys,” he said. “They have healers there. I’m bringing them back for Gabriella.”

  His grandfather nodded. “Will they come?”

  “I pray they will,” he said as he began to move past his grandfather. Then he stopped and turned. “And keep Sister Helga away from Gabriella until I return.”

  “Why?”

  “She told Gabriella that there was no hope for her,” Joseph said, his voice low and angry. “If that child loses hope, I will place the blame squarely on that woman.”

  His grandfather nodded. “I will call Sister Katrina to come and sit with Gabriella,” he said. “I think it’s time for Sister Helga to be reassigned to another position.”

  “Thank you, grandfather,” Joseph said as he continued down the stairs. “I will return soon.”

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Hazel guided the last doe from the milking stand back to the pen and then picked up the shovel to start cleaning out the soiled straw. Before she could lift her first scoop, she heard the door to Henry’s apartment open, and a slightly weary Henry shuffled down to the middle of the staircase and sat down, a coffee cup clutched in his hands. His hair was sleep-tousled, and he hadn’t shaved. He was dressed in grey sweatpants and a white t-shirt and, Hazel had to admit, looked adorably sexy.

  “Good morning, Henry. Sleeping in today?” she asked cheerfully, glancing at him, then concentrating on the straw. “That sleep-tousled thing you’ve got going on is pretty sexy.”

  Henry blushed and shook his head. “I was up most of the night doing research,” he said, his voice a little gravelly. “Something I saw last night when we came over the hill in the Jeep concerned me.”

  Hazel froze, shovel in hand, and looked back up to the staircase. “Saw?” she asked.

  He nodded. “I was driving the Jeep, and as we came over the hill, I saw something behind you,” he said. “It was tall enough to be a man, but it’s shape was more of an animal, a wolf. It was bipedal—”

  “It had a bike?” Hazel asked, trying to play ignorant.

  “Bipedal, meaning it walks upright on two legs,” Henry replied. Then he sipped some of his coffee. “Interestingly enough, this area is known to have documented cases of cryptozoological specimens similar to this. The Beast of Bray Road. The Michigan Dog-Man. All examples of lycanthropic creatures.”

  “Lycanthropic?” Hazel asked.

  “Well, taken from the Greek you have lukos, which means wolf, and anthropos, which means man,” Henry explained.

  “Wolfman?” Hazel asked, shaking her head. “You saw a wolfman in the woods behind me?”

  He took another long sip of coffee and sat back on the step and placed the mug to the side. “And, you know, I probably wouldn’t have thought a thing about it,” he finally said slowly, “if I hadn’t noticed the look of surprise on Joseph’s face when Rowan mentioned were-raccoons. And I might have even ignored that if I hadn’t noticed the wide-eyed surprise on your face when your mother mentioned the missing link.”

  Hazel placed the shovel down against the pen wall and folded her arms over her chest. “You know what, Henry?” she said. “You notice way too much.”

  He picked up his coffee and sipped again. “Yeah, sucks to be a researcher,” he said. “You’re always looking for clues.” He turned and met her eyes. “So, tell me.”

  She shook her head. “It’s not my story to tell,” she said.

  “What’s not your story to tell?” Joseph asked as he stepped into the barn.

  Hazel looked at Joseph, then up at Henry and sighed. “Henry was just telling me that he thought he saw a strange creature behind me in the orchard last night,” she explained. “He did research last night and discovered that it’s a phenomenon common in this part of Wisconsin.”

  Joseph nodded. “Well, actually, Henry’s interest makes my request even easier,” he said. “I need your help this morning. It will involve healing.”

  Henry stood up. “I’ll get dressed and be down in a few minutes,” he said immediately. “Why don’t you find Rowan?”

  Hazel put down the shovel and started toward the door, but Joseph put his hand on her shoulder and stopped her. “Wait. Don’t you want to know what it’s about or who it’s for?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “No, you need help,” she said. “And if we can, we will help you.”

  He lifted his hand and cradled her cheek for a moment. “Thank you,” he said.

  She placed her hand over his and smiled. “It’s what we do,” she said.

  He followed her across the barnyard to a large, steel building back behind the store. Hazel knocked on the door and then stepped inside. The room was filled with stainless steel counters and a myriad of copper and stainless-steel machines throughout the room. “This is where Ro
wan creates her herbal combinations,” Hazel explained.

  A moment later, Rowan walked out of an office on the other side of the building and hurried towards them. “Good morning,” she said. “What’s up?”

  “Why don’t you explain?” Hazel asked Joseph.

  “There is a child, a little girl, from my village who has been sick for a long time,” he said. “In our village we practice the old ways, no electricity, no modern equipment…”

  “No modern medicine,” Rowan inserted, and Joseph nodded.

  “I’ve been bringing in medications,” he said, “trying to help. But since she’s never received a diagnosis from a physician, I can only guess at symptoms and cures.”

  “And now?” Rowan asked.

  “She’s taken a turn for the worse,” he explained. “I don’t know if you can even help, but I had to ask.”

  “Of course you did,” Rowan said, sliding off her lab coat and tossing it on the table next to the door. “Let’s go.”

  “Henry’s getting dressed,” Hazel said. “He’ll meet us by the car.”

  “That’s it?” Joseph asked.

  Hazel grinned at him. “Joseph, no matter what you might have heard,” she teased, “we don’t lock little children up in gingerbread houses or hand out poisoned apples.”

  “That’s not what I meant,” he said, shaking his head. “I just didn’t expect all of you to be so generous.”

  Agnes walked out to the deck and waved at them.

  “Mom,” Hazel called to her. “Joseph needs our help. Someone is sick in his village.”

  “Oh, dear, is there anything I can do?” she asked.

  “We’re going to see what she needs,” Rowan explained. “Then we’ll know more.”

  “Just let me know,” she replied. “And, considering what we talked about last night, I’ll call Cat and have her work on the online orders from the house.”